


absence makes the heart...

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Auston’s Instagram, Happy Ending, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Pining, Praise, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: Let it be known, this fic is set in the present day, inspired by a picture that Auston Matthews posted on Instagram. It also assumes that Mitch and Auston are exes, and Mitch is pining big time while they are separated.I was bored...and dat ass.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews
Kudos: 47





	absence makes the heart...

“You suck, Matty. Seriously.” Mitch twists around in his bed, hand gripping the phone with Auston’s smirky face still in view. Mitch is trying to find a comfortable position, finally settling with his back propped against the headboard and a pillow behind his neck.

“Still squirmy as ever, Marns? God, I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Can you hire a professional cuddler? That would be an essential service for you, buddy.” Auston’s mustache twitches as he speaks.

Mitch sometimes wonders if he’s keeping that ugly thing out of spite because Mitch made a comment about how it looked like a malnourished tarantula had taken up residence on his upper lip. But that was months ago—now Mitch is used to it, kinda likes it because if anyone can pull off a 70’s pornstach and somehow look hotter, it’s Auston.

“Ha-ha. So funny. But I’m fine,” Mitch huffs back, ignoring Auston’s comment about hiring a professional cuddler because he has, as a matter of fact, looked into it, but decided it was too risky. Mitch is getting through this new shelter-in-place way of life with yoga, meditation, online gaming, and frequent walks with Zeus, who is used to his constant snuggles, but Mitch knows even his canine companion sometimes tires from too much attention. 

“I mean, I was fine...” Mitch adds before Auston can interject, “...until you posted that damn picture on Instagram.” He’s doing everything in his power not to pout like a six year old—it would detract from the hurt feelings he’s harboring, and Auston needs to know.

“Oh” is his teammate’s response. Auston shifts his eyes downward and then focuses his gaze somewhere else in his room, seemingly struck by the realization of what Mitch is talking about.

Seeing that picture was the last straw for Mitch, after weeks of struggling with an uneasiness, a strange discomfort that he couldn’t put his finger on. Just recently, he’d found the courage to admit to himself why his stomach was doing constant flip-flops and why he was waking up in the middle of the night, feeling like his entire world was off-kilter. His parents assumed his unease was due to the uncertainty of the season and the potential lost opportunity for the team to make a comeback and a run for the playoffs.

That was partially true, along with Mitch missing his teammates and friends, the energy from the crowds, the thrill of victory (though that had been absent recently), but in the end, what it mostly came down to, was the absence of one particular statuesque, chiseled by the gods, ex-boyfriend of his, who thoughtlessly posted a picture of himself from his family’s Arizona rooftop in the very spot where they’d broken up last summer.

And Mitch is seeing red over who he’s certain took the picture—Freddie, of course, Auston’s newly promoted best friend and shelter-in-place chaperon, aka, the lucky bastard who is spending 24/7 with Auston in seclusion. Yeah, Mitch loves Freddie, and thank fuck he’s there to keep Auston from doing anything stupid, but he can’t suppress the jealous twinge that’s been gripping his heart lately.

Still, Mitch can’t hold anything against his favorite ginger goalie because he knows there’s nothing going on between Freddie and his ex, aside from a good old fashioned bromance. But this is the effect that Auston has on him—this obnoxious force that makes him think things that ordinary, happy-go-lucky Mitch would never even fathom.

It just isn’t fucking fair that Mitch was starting to feel, a few weeks ago, that old magic returning with Auston. He’d even considered talking to him about getting back together. But nope...it hadn’t been in the cards to invite Auston out for an intimate dinner at their favorite French restaurant, put his heart on the line, and ask Auston if they could give it another shot.

“So, you see why I’m upset?”

“Yeah, I do. Want me to take it down?” Auston asks, now man enough to look Mitch in the eyes and concede with a remorseful tone, that he’s been an insensitive ass. At least, that’s what Mitch has gathered from his expression.

“No, you don’t have to take it down. People seem to like it. The great Auston Matthews in all of his glory,” Mitch says, not meaning to come across as bitter, but he’s certain that he’s failed.

“C’mon, Mitchy. I was just goofing around with Freddie, and I figured I’d post the picture. There’s been plenty of people saying I've gained weight, the usual bullshit, but I didn’t think about the fact that, well, you know...last summer. You and me.”

Mitch wants to talk about the “you and me” comment, but he’s too taken aback by the thought of people criticizing Auston’s perfect body. He glances at his own image in the corner of the screen, his eyes bugging out in disbelief. Mitch had laughed at the chirps from their current and former teammates but not looked through any more of the comments. He’d learned a long time ago to avoid those. 

“Are you kidding me?! Your body...oh my God...you look absolutely fucking gorgeous,” Mitch gushes unabashadley. “And anyone who says otherwise should be...I don’t know, horse whipped!”

The way Auston’s face lights up could best be described as “beaming,” but he’s also blushing too, and Mitch has all but forgotten his mild anger in hopes of erasing any doubts Auston has about his perfect physique because Mitch knows he has them. They used to talk about it at length, how both of them were on the constant receiving end of criticism for not having the bodies they were supposed to, though Mitch used to get way more shit than Auston.

“You’re a fucking wall, Aus, a wall of sheer, solid muscle. And I can tell you’ve been working your ass off to stay in shape, except...well, your ass looks as perfect as ever, so you haven’t exactly been ‘working it off’ so much as working on it, and I can tell that, even with you seated.”

Auston seems to really be enjoying this, so Mitch continues. 

“And your pecs? Fuck Tys for calling them ‘jugs,’ because they are fucking glorious, and praise the saints for that angle. And that lighting. I should be kissing Freddie right now for getting a nip shot. That man deserves many ‘thanks.’ Instead of being jealous, I should be begging him for more pics like that. Maybe he can send them to me privately though, you know, because I know how you are about overexposure, but damn, Matty…”

Mitch realizes that his mouth is about five seconds ahead of his brain, and judging by the look on Auston’s face now—which is a hybrid of amusement and confusion—Mitch has said way more than he intended, and he’s trying to retrace his thoughts and decipher what he actually said out loud versus what he’d meant to keep to himself. 

“You’re not, are you?” Auston asks, quirking an eyebrow upwards. “Jealous, I mean?”

 _Shit. Damn._ He had said that out loud. 

“Um...well...you know, I guess I’m jealous that you get to ride this thing out together. And I miss you. Both of you. But...especially you.” 

Auston doesn’t seem to believe him, and Mitch knows why. “But you’ve barely stayed in touch. Like, this is the most we’ve spoken since the season’s been on pause.”

“Yeah, well…” Mitch can feel his face turning beet red, and he’s trying to keep his tone even and not whiny and desperate when he speaks. “I’ve been having these feelings, Aus, and I don’t know how to deal with them. I really, really miss you.”

“But—”

“I know what you’re going to say...that it’s just the loneliness and boredom and general lack of human contact, but all of this started at the end of February, before the quarantine. And what I really miss...is us.”

Auston is struggling with how to respond—Mitch can tell from his furrowed brow, the slight tremble of his lips as they briefly part, then close. And he realizes he’s just dropped a bombshell on Auston, without much warning, and this was a conversation he was hoping to have in person, but here they are. 

“Look, Aus. I just needed you to know. I don’t need you to be on the same page. I mean, I’d be over the moon if you were, but that’s not fair because we both agreed to end things so we could focus on our careers, and all that shit went down with my contract. But I knew last summer, I knew as soon as we ended things, then went back downstairs to your rec room to play ping-pong and act like we could just go back to being bros, that I should never have agreed to us breaking up.”

Mitch was letting it all out now, the phone screen in front of him a blurred image of a stunned Auston. “I tried to move on, I really did. But I can’t. So now you know.” 

_There._ He was finished. Well, there’s still a thousand things he could say, and at least 500 of them are about having Auston’s thick thighs straddling him, holding him down and making him feel grounded and incredibly turned on at the same time. But it’s not just about the sex and how good they were together, it’s about how Mitch knows how amazing Auston is at everything he does and how he loves his drive, and he loved being loved by Auston, because he made Mitch feel like a prize he’d won, in the best way possible. Mitch had felt _cherished_. 

“Mitchy, I...um, I have to tell you something…”

“Yeah?” Mitch asks gently. He has a feeling that this might not come out in his favor, but he’s still clinging to the slight possibility that Auston has not only missed him, too, but wants what he wants—to try again.

“Do you know why Freddie’s here with me?” Auston’s expression is soft, vulnerable, and Mitch thinks he just might have a chance. 

“Um, to keep you out of trouble? To entertain you? To teach you Danish?” 

Auston lets out a chuckle before his face grows serious again. “Maybe those things, but mostly to distract me. He’s been trying to distract me for months now.”

“Distract you? From what?” A tightness is growing inside of Mitch’s chest, he’s biting into his lower lip and realizes he’s about to draw blood, so he eases up on it. 

“Well...from you. I asked him to. I wanted to give you some space,” Auston admits, and then he too, looks relieved to have confessed. 

It’s not enough though. Mitch wants to be certain, wants to hear him say it. “And?”

Auston knows he’s not off the hook. “And...I miss you too. I miss us. Just like you said...” He closes his eyes and arches his head back as if he saying this out loud has left him as drained as doing a round of suicide drills.

Mitch can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, a kind of relief washes over him, though there’s an aching inside that won’t be satisfied from this conversation alone. He needs to touch Auston, to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingers. He stares longingly at the smooth skin of Auston’s neck, wanting desperately to trail soft kisses alongside his neck until their lips come crashing together—a perfect fit.

But this is something. And in a way, given the circumstances, this is everything. 

“So...we’re on the same page? At least, we feel the same way?” Mitch doesn’t want to assume what this will mean for them going forward. 

“Looks like it. Hell of a time to have this epiphany.”

“Right?” Mitch smiles warmly into the phone. He knows he looks like a complete dope, but that’s the effect Auston has on him. “I guess we can keep talking about it. Things. What we want. How we can…”

Auston nods. “Maybe this is a good thing—the separation, the distance. It won’t last forever, but it gives us a chance to ease back into…”

“Yeah,” Mitch agrees. “Gives us time to figure out how we can, you know, have the best of both worlds.”

“Freddie has been telling me every day since he got here to just tell you what’s been on my mind.”

“Really? Guess I owe him an apology.”

“Why? For being jealous?” Auston is beaming again. Mitch knows he loves his jealous streak because it’s so not typical Mitch behavior. 

“Something like that. I’m still jealous though, don’t know how long it’ll be until I can see you again. I mean, I could charter a plane and come for a visit, but I’m trying to play by the rules.”

“I think we’re adult enough to handle this. And just so you know, Freddie doesn’t have to be the one taking pictures of me. I think I’ve got the hang of the selfie by now. I mean, sometime in the future...if you want more pictures. Private ones, like you said.”

“Oh, definitely.” Mitch doesn’t even try to hide his shit-eating grin. “Soon. Once we...talk some more, you know...ease back into things,” Mitch reminds him, and for himself, because otherwise, he’d go ahead and jump on that offer.

But he knows there will be time for that in the future. And he has some creative ideas for how they can survive their time apart, and yes, several of his ideas are quite filthy. 

He’s saving those for another day.


End file.
